


A Spaceman Came Travelling.

by siriusblue



Series: In A Hundred Lifetimes [20]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alien/Human Relationships, Alternate Universe, Archaeology, Christmas, Greg is Sweet, Languages and Linguistics, M/M, Mycroft is a Softie, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 15:53:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21914782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriusblue/pseuds/siriusblue
Summary: Professor Gregory Lestrade doesn't believe in extra-terrestial life. He's a linguist after all. That is until a meteor crashes in front of him at Christmas and he's stuck with the occupant until they can be rescued. The fact that the newly named Mycroft Sigersson reminds him of his first love has nothing to do with the fact that Gregory hopes for a Christmas delay.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: In A Hundred Lifetimes [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/917586
Comments: 26
Kudos: 54
Collections: Mystrade Holiday 2019





	A Spaceman Came Travelling.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Paia_Loves_Pie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paia_Loves_Pie/gifts).

> Written for the 2019 Mystrade Holiday Collection. Much love to paia_loves_pie for the plotbunny. I hope to have the second chapter done by New Year.

A SPACEMAN CAME TRAVELLING.

  
  
  


Professor Gregory Lestrade gathered up his briefcase, checking that his lecture notes were inside, and pulled on his coat and gloves. He debated about whether or not to wear a hat but, even though the Christmas term at the university was nearly over, it wasn't particularly cold.

Locking his office door behind him, he ventured out to the car park and opened the door of his rattly old Ford, giving thanks when it started on the first attempt. He peered at the fuel gage and smiled. It wasn't as if Oxford was that far.

It was a lovely crisp day as Gregory left London, pink clouds and dazzling blue skies made him wonder if his colleagues in the Astronomy department had been at the Master's port. There had been a lot of muttering about 'solar activity' and 'unseasonable meteor sightings'. As far as Gregory was concerned, it was a load of waffle. Man had yet to set foot on the Earth's nearest satellite, so contemplating what might occur due to celestial bodies even further away came, in his opinion, firmly in the realm of science fiction.

Smugly he patted the briefcase that rested on the passenger seat. Linguistics was real. Language was communication, constantly evolving. Cutting-edge work as far as Gregory was concerned. As the acknowledged expert in Anglo-Saxon and Old Norse in the country, Gregory knew the power of words. He particularly relished that power when arguing with the science faculty over the allocation of resources or sniping with his colleagues over the faculty minutes.

He knew his lecture on the new translation of  _ Beowulf  _ was a good one and would encourage enlightened debate amongst the Oxford students.

"Oh,  _ bugger _ !" 

Gregory realised he had missed the turning he should have taken for Oxford. Truly, he was in absent-minded professor mode today.

Carefully he manoeuvred the rattly car off onto a side road until he could find a place to turn round.

Out the corner of his eye, Gregory saw something arcing across the sky. It seemed too fast for an aeroplane and was moving towards him.

Wondering if his Astronomy colleagues had got it right for once, Gregory pulled over to the side of the road and watched the falling star, captivated by the grace of its trajectory.

"That seems awfully close," he said to himself. "Perhaps I should…"

Whatever Gregory was going to say next was drowned out by the ear splitting sound of the projectile hitting the earth, the blast wave throwing him forward so his head collided painfully with the windscreen.

Dazed, he watched the meteorite or whatever it was seemingly split apart and  _ something  _ emerge.

What it was, Gregory couldn't quite see as its shape appeared fluid, as though it couldn't decide what to be. Mildly alarmed, Gregory realised it was heading his way and he scrabbled to turn the key in the ignition which utterly failed to turn over. It was getting closer.

"Oh, shit!" Gregory hissed, then fainted.

*

"Hello? Hello? I'm terribly sorry if I gave you a shock. I hope you are all right."

A voice. A  _ human  _ voice. Not remotely terrifying. What  _ was  _ terrifying was that the speaker was conversing in Anglo-Saxon, something not heard in general conversation since before the Conquest.

Gregory risked opening his eyes, fearing what he might see. What he didn't expect was someone very normal staring at him with a concerned expression.

Tall and lean with auburn hair and wearing a tweed jacket and flannels, not dissimilar to Gregory's everyday wardrobe. So far, so good. The eyes though...there was nothing human about the eyes. Iridescent, glittering, changing from amethyst to emerald to aquamarine to quartz grey as Gregory stared, never fixing on one colour. It was mesmerising.

" _ Êow unc hearm?" _

"No, I'm not hurt, just surprised."

The stranger stared at Gregory then stuck his finger in his ear and wiggled it around. Then he looked distraught.

"Twentieth-century English. London dialect. Drat. I'm a thousand years too late."

Realising he was at a distinct disadvantage sitting gawping at what he presumed was an alien, Gregory got out of the car.

"Whatever do you mean?" Gregory asked.

"I was supposed to land in the tenth century," the alien continued. "It appears Xzinof has been at the falling-down water again." He glowered at the remains of what Gregory quickly realised, his spaceship. "Sir, where exactly are we?"

"On the road to Oxford. England, just in case you were unsure."

"Right country at least," muttered the alien. "It's possible that my arrival has been noticed by the powers that be. I must get away from here."

Gregory had no doubt that the Government would take great pleasure in carrying out any number of unspeakable acts on the visitor.

"I would offer you a lift, but my car won't start," said Gregory apologetically. "You are undoubtedly correct. I'm surprised the place isn't overrun by soldiers as we speak."

The alien looked somewhat bemused.

"Where would we go in your mechanical contrivance?"

"To Oxford. I'm giving a lecture there today and it would be incredibly rude of me not to turn up."

"You are an  _ ealdor _ ? What do you impart to those hungry to learn?"

Gregory preened a little bit at being called a chief.

"Anglo-Saxon and Old Norse. My lecture is on a new translation of  _ Beowulf. _ Or it was. Won't be teaching anything if this dratted car won't start."

"Will you permit me to try? I have studied ancient methods of transport extensively. It is doubtful the electromagnetic pulse from the crash fried your electrics so it should be simple enough to fix."

"Electro...what?"

The alien glared at him and made shooing motions at Gregory. Bemused he stood to one side as the alien slid into the driver's seat.

Gregory couldn't see what was happening but was startled by the sound of the engine firing. The alien got out with a broad smile on his face.

"A delightful conveyance, most typical of its kind. You are safe to manoeuvre it now."

"Thank you," said Gregory sincerely. "You must come with me. Please. I would hate for anything to happen to you."

"And I shall. It would not be of benefit to anyone if I were discovered."

The alien got into the passenger seat and Gregory returned to the Oxford road. As they drove along, a brace of helicopters flew past them heading, Gregory was convinced, for the crash site.

"My name is Gregory. Gregory Lestrade. Do you have a name?"

The alien looked at him, confusion in his iridescent eyes.

"Yes, I do. Mxzscitkolf 359. However the last time I was on this planet, the local  _ thegn  _ called me Mycroft. The tribe believed me to be some kind of supernatural creature. We are reptilian in appearance on our own world, so I think that is where all the stories about dragons came from.

"Incredible. The Angles weren't known for flights of fancy and that just confirmed it. I shall stick with Mycroft, however," said Gregory with a smile. "It rather suits you. You remind me of someone I knew in my youth. A very long time ago and in a very different country."

Mycroft had been away from Earth for a long time but even he couldn't mistake the longing and regret in the human's voice.

"Your lover?" Mycroft asked. Gregory was so startled he almost ran the car off the road.

"You mustn't say things like that! " he yelped, confirming Mycroft's theory. "Being homosexual can get you put in prison!"

Mycroft shook his head in astonishment.

"Humans are bizarre. There is actually a law preventing you from loving who you wish?"

"Quite a draconian one," Gregory confirmed. "There is talk of things changing. One always lives in hope."

"Never give up hope," said Mycroft cryptically.

  
  


*

Mycroft's eyes shone as they drove through Oxford, taking in the Christmas displays in the shops and the decorations that festooned the streets.

"Who is the jolly fellow with the red suit and beard? Not your king, surely?" Mycroft asked.

Gregory chuckled as he indicated to turn into Magdalen College.

"That's Father Christmas. Santa Claus. He gives presents to children on Christmas Eve by flying around the world on a sleigh pulled by reindeer."

"The whole world in one night? What a bizarre concept. Especially since I doubt this Santa Claus has access to warp technology."

"Children believe it. Part of the magic of Christmas, giving gifts. Supposedly symbolic of the gifts the Magi gave to the baby Jesus."

"One myth supports another, I suppose. Ah, we have arrived."

Mycroft looked approvingly at the graceful architecture of the college.

"We have. Remember, you're a visiting Professor from Uppsala if anyone asks. It's the only way you'll be allowed to sit in on my lecture.

"Mycroft Sigersson. I rather think it suits me. Was he Swedish, your lover?"

"Shhhhh!" Gregory pleaded. "Not so loud! And yes. Yes he was."

His theory confirmed, Mycroft followed Gregory into the lecture theatre.

He watched his new acquaintance give his lecture and was impressed by his passion for his subject, a passion that translated into keen interest and relevant questions from the students.

This Gregory was a  _ most  _ interesting human. Mycroft was pleased at this turn of events for it would take some time before he could leave Earth. Spending that time with Gregory would be interesting indeed.

TBC

  
  
  
  



End file.
